


fox confessor (please)

by dustofwarfare



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, genesis in fox ears is my aesthetic, hair!porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 20:30:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12660864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare
Summary: “You’re – with myhair,” Sephiroth says, eyes wide despite himself.Genesis’s voice is caught with lust and something very like triumph. “I love when I surprise you with depravity.”“It’s not depraved,” Sephiroth huffs, but maybe it is, a little. “It’s just weird.”---Or: Sephiroth and Genesis in a supply closet during a ShinRa Halloween Party. That is the entire plot.





	fox confessor (please)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pixeled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixeled/gifts).



> This was going to be a fic for Halloween, then I got the flu. This is probably in the same 'verse as "Just Desserts" but you don't need to read that to follow this. It's Sephiroth/Genesis with implied Angeal/Genesis/Sephiroth. Sorry I keep not getting you laid, Angeal. I owe you one. 
> 
> Title from the Neko Case song :D
> 
> For Pixeled, who needed a happy thing! Hopefully this cheered you up, friend! :D

Fox confessor (please)

“I need you three to put in an appearance at the ShinRa Halloween party,” says Lazard.

“No,” says Genesis. He gestures toward Sephiroth and says, “Have you seen him at parties? He just stands around and makes everyone uncomfortable.”

Sephiroth nods. There’s no point in arguing with the truth.

Angeal, who knows both a direct order and a hopeless situation when he sees one, stays silent.

“You’re going,” says Lazard, flatly. “We need more funding, so the three of you need to play _nice_ while you’re there.”

“Funding for what? More genetically enhanced super soldiers?” Genesis bristles, eyes sparking. “I parade around in costume _enough_ as it is for ShinRa, I hardly think it fair to ask me to do it on my off-hours, just so Hojo can have access to genetic splicing equipment.”

“It’s not for Hojo, and you’re the one who wanted the coat,” says Lazard. He points at Genesis. “And if the fire damage to the VR Room is any indication, you’re also the reason we need more funding.”

Genesis examines his nails. “Don’t give me materia and expect me not to use it, Director.”

“You’re supposed to use it against the enemy, not Sephiroth,” says Lazard.

Sephiroth and Genesis exchange a glance. Clearly Lazard does not understand the finer points of their relationship.

“Nevertheless,” says Lazard, a little louder. “You’re going, and that’s that. And Genesis? Leave the materia at home.”

“Mmm,” says Genesis, as they file out of Lazard’s office. “Perhaps it will be part of my costume.”

“Genesis –”

“Understood, Director,” says Angeal, shoving Genesis out of the door. “We’ll be there.”

***

The problem with ShinRa parties is that by definition, parties are supposed to be enjoyable. Or so Sephiroth’s been told. All his experience – save for one very memorable birthday party – has been otherwise.

ShinRa parties are clearly designed for something other than fun, unless tiresome political and professional scheming is someone’s idea of a good time. Which, for the majority of the attendees, is probably true.

But Sephiroth is a soldier. When your problem-solving skills involve a sword, your people skills inevitably suffer.

“This is such a waste of an evening,” Genesis mutters. He sips his wine and surveys the room, from the corner vantage point the three SOLDIERs First have claimed as their own. “This is the same group of tiresome suits I see and avoid on a regular basis. Only dressed like idiots.”

Angeal gives a low, quiet laugh. “Genesis.”

“What? Am I wrong?” Genesis nods over to Palmer, who is dressed as…Sephrioth can’t quite make it out, but it appears to be some kind of serpent.

“Is he…a zolom? No.” Angeal is laughing now, his broad shoulders shaking. “That’s…wow.”

“It looks like he’s dressed as a zolom that ate Palmer,” says Sephiroth.

Genesis shoots him a grin, bumping his shoulder with his own. “I love when you’re a bitch, Seph.” He’s on his second glass of wine and it’s clearly mellowed him.

Sephiroth frowns. He wasn’t trying to be anything. The costume really does look as if a Midgar zolom has swallowed the rotund ShinRa executive. He shrugs and sips his drink, his singular indulgence for the evening. It’s good vodka from Icicle, too.

Lazard approaches them before Sephiroth can say anything. The SOLDIER director is dressed as a pirate, and it’s not a bad look on him. He’s even wearing an eyepatch, though Sephiroth would not want to be in this room, with these people, without full use of his faculties.

“I see you all almost followed orders,” he says, shaking his head. He looks like he’s trying not to grin. Lazard has a fondness for his SOLDIERs First that is shockingly close to obvious.

“What?” Genesis, always the one to speak up, spreads his arms to his side. “Look, Lazard. We’re here, and in costume.”

“You’re here,” Lazard agrees. “Whether or not you’re in costume, however, is debatable.”

‘I was unaware your funding would only be approved if we won the costume contest,” says Genesis, bright eyes narrowed.

Sephiroth shoots him a look. “No one said there was a contest.”

“There’s no contest,” Angeal assures him, giving Lazard a look that clearly says he should agree for everyone’s safety. Genesis and Sephiroth in competition is why they’re here in the first place; their duels lead to the majority of necessary repairs in the VR room.

Sephiroth is glad about that the lack of a contest, because their costumes aren’t anything but headbands. Angeal, dressed in dark jeans and a light blue button up shirt, has a headband with wolf ears affixed to the top. Genesis, resplendent in a red sweater that somehow didn’t clash with his hair, sported a pair of fox ears. And Sephiroth, dressed in usual unrelieved black, had cat ears on his headband because, as Genesis said, “demon ears for the Demon of Wutai would be a little too on-the-nose.”

Lazard raises his glass of – something – and toasts them with a fond, if exasperated, smile. “Try to mingle, hmm? Angeal, I took the liberty of inviting that SOLDIER Third you were talking about, Zack Fair?”

“You invited Fair to a party full of suits? Can’t you do that when these two are in Wutai?” Angeal asks, good-naturedly. “I already have my hands full.”

Genesis narrows his eyes, his voice sharp and only a little playful – it’s the tone he uses more with Sephiroth than Angeal. “Are you comparing me to a _Third_ , Angeal?”

Angeal doesn’t bother to respond as he makes his way across the room to the aforementioned Third, a young man with ridiculous dark hair and a loud voice who appears to be dressed as a frog. Sephiroth can feel Genesis’s mood turn dark; he doesn’t like to be ignored, and he especially doesn’t like to lose Angeal’s attention.

Lazard makes another mention of _mingling_ , gives them both a distracted smile and wanders off.

Sephiroth scans the room, wondering if there is anyone he would feel even remotely comfortable speaking with of his own volition, and decides there isn’t.

“Come, Sephiroth,” Genesis says, and Sephiroth glances sharply at the tone in his voice. It’s dark and amused, husky with something that means while Genesis is annoyed and in a mood, it is probably going to end with Sephiroth getting laid if he plays his cards right.

He's always been rather good at poker. “Lead the way.”

***

“A supply closet,” says Sephiroth. He makes a face. “If we’re not going to be at the party, why don’t we simply go back to your apartment?”

“Because I don’t wish to go back to my apartment,” says Genesis, pushing him none-too-gently into the closet.

“All right.” Sephiroth crosses his arms over his chest. “We can go to mine, then.”

Genesis pulls the door closed, then tugs the string that turns on the light in the small closet. “No, Sephiroth, the point is that we’re going to do something _very_ naughty with the party going on right outside.”

“It’s not right outside, though. We’re across the hallway.”

Genesis, who has grabbed Sephiroth’s shirt in two hands, sighs dramatically and lightly bangs his forehead against Sephiroth’s chin. “You – why do I bother with you?”

“I’m not sure I actually know the answer to that,” says Sephiroth, in all seriousness.

“That’d be a first, wouldn’t it?”

As if Genesis Rhapsodos is anyone to talk. Before Sephiroth can remind him of that, Genesis tugs him down and presses his mouth to Sephiroth’s, not kissing him but saying in a low voice, “I want to mess you up so everyone at that party knows I’ve had my hands on you.”

“And by _everyone,_ you mean Angeal?” Sephiroth asks, smiling when Genesis goes tense against him.

“He already knows I put my hands on you.”

“He’s usually there when you do,” Sephiroth reminds him.

“Not always. And he’s busy.”

That’s the reason, of course. Genesis hates when Angeal’s attention isn’t on him, and Sephiroth is convinced that’s most of the reason why Genesis is sleeping with him in the first place. _If you can’t beat them, join them._

Genesis kisses him, though, and Sephiroth thinks maybe he’s not being very generous. It’s equal parts Angeal and Genesis’s desire to prove himself, that constant low-grade rivalry between the two of them. If it leads to the way Genesis is kissing him, like they’re fighting, then Sephiroth can’t say he minds too much.

“Your hair,” Genesis sighs. It’s not a reverent or appreciative sigh at all. It’s mostly annoyed. He shoves at the mass of hair that’s fallen around the two of them as they’re kissing.

“I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” says Sephiroth, as Genesis pushes him back into the wall.

“It doesn’t make it less annoying.”

Sephiroth leans back against the wall, more amused than turned on by their current escapade. He can easily hear if someone is approaching the closet and he doubts they will; it’s after hours, and unless it’s some other couple looking for a quick place to fuck….

Genesis kisses him again, his hands shoving up under Sephiroth’s shirt to tease over the muscles of his stomach. It makes Sephiroth’s cock harden immediately, amusement chased away by desire. Genesis’s smile against his mouth feels like a cut, something slow and deliberate and meant to draw blood. “Our esteemed Sephiroth, what would they say if they knew how easy you were for me?”

“It depends on who _they_ are,” Sephiroth says, because he knows Genesis well enough by now to know how that will go over.

Genesis takes his lip gently between his teeth and tugs. Oddly, he’s less likely to leave marks than Angeal, who sometimes forgets his own strength – or perhaps enjoys that he doesn’t have to temper it. Genesis likes to take him apart, a slow and sure evisceration of pleasure, almost delicate in his deliberate seduction.

“Will you,” Genesis murmurs, and there’s a surprising amount of affection in his voice, “just be _quiet_?”

Sephiroth slides a hand around the back of Genesis’s neck and pulls him forward. “Make me.”

Genesis huffs a laugh against his mouth. “So predictable.” He moves to kiss at Sephiroth’s neck, then bites gently at his ear and runs his tongue along the shell – it never fails to make Sephiroth shiver. “Then again, I do like it when you talk, as long as you’re saying what I want to hear.”

With that, Genesis slides smoothly to his knees. He rubs his face over the bulge in Sephiroth’s pants, breathing out hotly against the material. “If you’re saying… _please suck me, Genesis_ , for instance.”

Sephiroth raises his eyebrow and settles back against the wall. “You’re the one on your knees, Gen. What else are you planning on doing down there?” He can feel Genesis’s soft laugh as well as hear it.

“So smug.” Genesis leans back to draw a finger down the hard ridge of Sephiroth’s erection. “Your pants are wet.”

Sephiroth makes a sound he doesn’t hide. Genesis says he likes to hear Sephiroth talk, but in reality, it’s _Sephiroth_ that has a thing for Genesis’s mouth and the dirty, dirty things he says with such apparent ease.

Genesis laughs, delighted at the reaction. “Ah, my perfect soldier.” He nuzzles Sephiroth’s cock again, tongue flicking against the damp cotton.

“My cock?”

Genesis laughs again. “It’s hard enough to slay armies.”

Sephiroth tilts his head and looks up at the ceiling, restless. That’s flattering, vaguely embarrassing and – arousing, yes. “Genesis.”

“Yes, Sephiroth?” Genesis’s palm settles over him, rubbing gentle circles over the head of his dick. “Would you like something?”

It’s not as if Sephiroth hasn’t before asked for this – and he knows how to get his own revenge, when it’s time. “Suck me.”

“Are you going to say please?” Genesis murmurs, reaching up to undo his button and slide the zipper down – slowly, so slowly….

Sephiroth snorts even as he widens his stance. “Are you asking me to?”

Genesis glances up at him, his eyes glittering with mako and want, his expression caught between amusement, desire and discontent – the storm that is Genesis, always. He doesn’t answer, merely shoves Sephiroth’s pants out of the way and deep throats his cock without pause.

Sephiroth moans – he can’t help it and he doesn’t even want to, he does like this – who wouldn’t? – and Genesis on his knees for him without a fight is rare enough to want to both appreciate and reward. He reaches down with one hand and pulls his dress shirt up and out of the way, and the other goes to twine in Genesis’s hair –

\--and instead he feels the small fox ears from his costume. Sephiroth fingers them gently, rubbing the soft synthetic fabric and thinking it’s a very fitting comparison. Sly and clever Genesis, who’s sucking his cock in a supply closet out of some kind of bizarre combination of pique and boredom.

Genesis is rubbing his own cock with one hand while he takes Sephrioth’s cock so deep he chokes, though, so perhaps it’s not _just_ pique and boredom.

It’s a quick blowjob, rough and messy, and Sephiroth comes gasping up at a shelf with a roll of paper towels and three gallon jugs of industrial cleaner that the janitors use to clean the floors. He’s going to end up with a hard-on the next time he comes across one of them in the hallway just from the memory.

Genesis rises to his feet, his fox ears askew and his mouth swollen, wet – his eyes are lazy and heavy-lidded, face flushed. He leans in and kisses Sephiroth, who finds the taste of himself on Genesis’s tongue as thrilling as the first time.

“My turn,” purrs Genesis. He’s undoing his pants with one hand, and when Sephiroth tries to reverse their positions so he can return the favor, Genesis shakes his head. “No, I think I like you just like this – trapped against me, with your pants down.”

Sephiroth rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t move. Genesis presses up against him, and grabs at a handful of Sephiroth’s hair…which he then carries down and wraps around his cock.

“You’re – with my _hair_ ,” Sephiroth says, eyes wide despite himself.

Genesis’s voice is caught with lust and something very like triumph. “I love when I surprise you with depravity.”

“It’s not depraved,” Sephiroth huffs, but maybe it is, a little. “It’s just _weird._ ”

“You pull on it when you jerk yourself off,” Genesis reminds him, which Sephiroth mentioned once, the very first time they went to bed together, and Genesis has never let him forget.

“That’s not quite the same,” Sephiroth says, but he can’t help glancing down to see what it looks like, Genesis rubbing himself off within the confines of his own hand and the silver silk of Sephiroth’s hair.

“Your hair – gets everywhere, in the shower, in the bed, on my clothes, I wake up _tangled_ in it – it can at least – provide me – some pleasure,” Genesis pants, shivering against him, and Sephiroth doesn’t know if it’s because of what he’s doing or Sephiroth’s somewhat shocked reaction.

Sephiroth recovers, of course, he’s too much of a soldier not to. He reaches down and wraps his hand around Genesis’s, which makes each stroke tug on his hair and pulls a pleased noise from him.

“Bastard,” Genesis whispers, but Sephiroth doesn’t think he means it. “I’m going to come in your hair for that.”

_Oh, like Shiva you are._

Sephiroth waits until Genesis is close – he knows Genesis’s tells by now – and moves quickly, having enough experience of people trying to grab his hair in close fighting to know how to extricate himself. Genesis growls something unpleasant but it turns into a moan as Sephiroth gets on his knees and finishes him off with his mouth.

“I wasn’t going to,” Genesis says, when he catches his breath.

Sephiroth, still on his knees, quirks a brow up at him.

“All right, I was. But I was going to offer to wash it out in the shower when we got back.”

***

They meet back up with Angeal, who is clearly looking for them. “Where have you two –” he stops, takes in the sight of Genesis’s messy hair and pleased smirk, Sephiroth’s slightly wrinkled shirt, and sighs. “Really?”

“What?” Genesis sips his newly-acquired glass of wine and shrugs. “You were busy. So were we. I fail to see the problem.”

“We were supposed to mingle,” Angeal reminds him.

“There was mingling,” Genesis says smoothly. “Of…things.”

Sephiroth hides his laugh in a low cough. At Angeal’s look, he shrugs. Did Angeal expect him to, what, turn down a blowjob for a ShinRa party? Even Angeal isn’t that honorable.

“But wait until I show you this _fascinating_ new thing I learned about Sephiroth’s hair,” says Genesis, smiling widely.

“I have never trusted that smile,” Angeal says, brows drawn.

“Maybe not,” Genesis agrees, “but it doesn’t stop you, does it?”

“It hasn’t yet,” Angeal agrees. He shakes his head. “I can’t believe you two were in a closet enjoying yourselves while I was stuck talking to Palmer and Heidegger. You both owe me.”

“I’m more than happy to leave and settle this debt,” Genesis says, blithely reaching out and handing his wine glass to the next person who walks by them. “How about you, Seph?”

“I don’t think that was a caterer,” Sephiroth says.

Genesis shrugs. “Behold my lack of concern. Shall we?”

Sephiroth isn’t quite quick enough to pull the same maneuver the next time with Angeal, but Genesis makes good on his promise to wash his hair, so Sephiroth decides to let it go.

***

The next morning, the Shinra janitor is very confused when, opening the supply closet to stock up for his daily chores, he finds a small headband with cat ears lying on the floor.

He decides to take it home. Hey, whoever dropped it surely won’t miss it, right?

_,_

 

 


End file.
